


Cultural Differences

by strobe



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: All I know is that it is bad, M/M, Not-dead Thorin, Post-Hobbit, They is married~, Thorin is a Softie, i don't know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7068817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strobe/pseuds/strobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin decides to take a break from Erebor with Bilbo and taking note of the cultural differences between the two species, after noticing how much he has changed over the past  few years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cultural Differences

  


An old cottage . It was apparent that it had been added to at various stages over time around a core building. The oldest portion was cobblestone, covered with ancient lime green tiles on the north side, while the newer portion was constructed from brick. There was a courtyard at the back, a tool shed and a small garden. To the south of the courtyard, a dozen rows of large apple trees laden with ripe, rich fruit as well an exquisitely intertwined grape vine- clusters of violet grapes hanging off of the redding leaves. The cobblestone wall that skirted the house was crumbling and required some repairs. Beyond the wall stretched a wood of pristine oak and fern trees that covered the hill all the way to the peak in a brilliant, breathtaking sweep of emerald, interrupted occasionally by the red and gold of the mountain maple trees.

 

 

A diminutive, sparkling stream gushed from a spring close by, flowing over the clean gravel and emerging downstream. A thick garden of various fruits and vegetables hid the stream itself, but the serene flow of the water could be heard among the rustling of the oaks and the tweets of birds.

 

 

 

Thorin instantly fell in love with the house-seduced by scent of mint, sage and fresh apples that rose through the evening air to meet the flight of the last birds of the season, still reluctant to abandon their empty nests. He set his bags down at the threshold and stretched his legs upon the pathway that crossed the property, dividing it, repeatedly glancing at his lover with sheer adoration. They both sat on the stone wall and basked in that twilight moment of peace and serenity, suspended in time in an almost fictitious manner, as they idly waited for nightfall.

* * *

                               

 

"It's no hobbit hole, but it will do" muttered Bilbo with a teasing grin upon his face, looking upon the house with sheer delight. Thorin had forgotten completely about the cultural differences between species- he was so accustomed to Erebor that he had forgotten all about Bag-End and Bilbo's familiar hobbit hole. He had come here, to a cottage near the valley of Withywindle, near to the lodgings of Tom Bombadil, as he felt that Bilbo may feel more at ease nearer to the Shire.

He felt slightly disturbed by the observation. It was like a little prickle at the back of his mind, and he was thoughtful and quiet the rest of the day.

 

_What was so different between the two species?_

 

Thorin often celebrated the cultural differences between them, insisting that he loved everything about Bilbo and his peculiarities, and the creature comforts that he savoured as a hobbit. But now that he thought of it, he had definitely allowed Bilbo's hobbit instincts to wane over time. He was definitely no longer the same hobbit he had met all those years ago at Bag-End.

* * *

****

 

Bilbo couldn't remember the last time he had tended a garden, baked his own meal, read a book for pure enjoyment, or knit a sweater. All the time he had spent in Erebor had made him so accustomed to the dwarves, and their habits, that they had become second nature to him.

 

He began to miss the warmth of his hobbit hole and his old, familiar habits. Coming here helped, of course. It allowed him to escape from the loneliness and the cold of Erebor, and to rediscover some familiarity. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something missing, that there was something more.

 

After dinner, Bilbo excused himself to go back to his room. He ignored the questioning looks, feigned fatigue, and left them to it.

 

* * *

****

 

"I look ridiculous" he muttered

 

Looking into the mirror, Bilbo acknowledged that it not for the lack of a beard and the hair-covered feet poking out at the bottom of his robes, Bilbo could easily be mistaken for a dwarf.

 

His hair was the obvious acknowledgement. It was much longer than the ordinary length of a hobbit's hair . He kept most of it in a single, thick braid, save for the smaller marriage plait on the left side, but the points of his ears were covered by the loose strands that had escaped their bounds, and their shells were adorned with golden cuffs and earrings that Thorin had discovered some time ago.

 

He wore an embroidered ocean-blue tunic beneath a dark grey, fur-lined robe. The tunic showed off his physique, toned after weeks of hiking nearby Erebor and the surrounding area. The tunic was subtly adorned with jewels around the collar and the cuff of the sleeves- more items that Thorin had insisted upon bequeathing unto him.

 

His skin had grown ashen and pale from the long hours spent under the mountains.

 

 _"A hobbit wearing fur?"_ , he thought to himself. _"This is utterly ridiculous"_

 

"Do you remember what it was that I told you upon bequeathing that to you?", Thorin asked as he approached Bilbo from behind. "That it was made by my folk, and that it could be worn by none more deserving than you"

 

Bilbo jumped in astonishment. He had not seen Thorin approach and was supposed to see him.

 

"Yes. Yes I do. Perhaps it's… it's been a little while since I've felt myself. Like a hobbit, that is. It's been far too long since I've felt the comfort of my hobbit hole. I…I miss it. I miss being a hobbit, that's all"

A single, pained tear shed from his weary eyes as he welcomed Thorin's warm arms and his loving embrace as the dimming pink of dusk passed and the twilight glimmer of the moonlit sky surrounded them.

 

* * *

****

 

"I feel like… I'm not a hobbit anymore", Bilbo whispered shakily into Thorin's ears. It was late at night, and Bilbo couldn't shake the feeling that he had lost his own identity.

 

"Bilbo," Thorin breathed, his mien remorseful. "It was never my intent to change you. I never meant for you to feel this way."

 

"I know," said Bilbo. "It's my own fault, not yours. I just… I guess I just wanted to be accepted. Almost everyone has been wonderfully accommodating, but I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable, as if I was forcing my culture onto you"

 

"I don't think there's any cause for concern in that way," Thorin assured him. "You are a hobbit, and that will never change. You being yourself is why I love you, Âzyungâl"

 

He laughed at himself. "I guess I was being rather silly, wasn't I?"

 

"Maybe a little," Thorin answered. "But you are one hobbit in a mountain full of dwarves. It's natural to feel disconnected from yourself in such an environment." His jaw clenched as he considered the matter. "

 

An idea stuck him. "Maybe, we can do a trade." Thorin didn't seem to catch on, so he elaborated, "What I mean is, I'll keep up with some dwarvish aspects, like my hair and you teaching me to wield a sword, but maybe I can teach you how some of my own hobbies."

 

"Like what?"

 

Bilbo mulled it over. "Well, there aren't any suitable areas in the mountain to plant a recreational garden. And Bombur's not about to let you anywhere near the kitchens after your last attempt at baking." He continued to think back on all the activities that he and most other hobbits indulged in, wondering which might engage Thorin's interest enough to be willing to participate.

 

Suddenly , Bilbo had an idea. It could work he thought, but it would require some convincing….

 

* * *

****

 

"You seem to be rather enjoying this, Thorin", Bilbo exclaimed with an evil grin spread across his lips.

 

"Anything for you, Ghivashel" he replied with a warm smile, as he curled up with Bilbo in his armchair, helping him crochet a sweater- something Bilbo had never imagined.

 

He was a hobbit. Thorin was a dwarf. And that's just how he wanted it to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this!!! I know it's really bad so thank you so much for taking the time to read it :) thanks also to http://archiveofourown.org/users/highlytrainedfangirl/pseuds/highlytrainedfangirl for the title and for forcing me to post this. Please leave a comment if you can :) thanks again!


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